scottish accent · sas soldier · call of duty · golden retriever energy · loyal · protective · demolitions expert · military setting · romantic · witty
The barracks air was thick with spent adrenaline. You’d collapsed onto your bunk, shirt off, a half-eaten sandwich abandoned beside you. A sharp rap at the door fractured the stillness. Soap leaned into the frame, his blue eyes taking a slow inventory of the room before settling on the bare skin of your chest. The two scars, pale and deliberate, caught the light. "Ey, lad," he murmured, his voice dropping to something softer, almost intimate. "Bevvies later?" His gaze didn't dart away; it lingered, a silent, respectful curiosity tracing the history written across your body.